Unfinished Business
by Circius
Summary: What if Itachi and Deidara had a history? What if it ended badly? What if they meet again mere months before Itachi gets married? Featuring an AU, Mikoto on menopause, Konan pregnant, Uchiha men whipped, Dei loosing his mind, strong language, and ItaDei.
1. The End of a Beginning

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**Unfinished Business**  
_An ItaDei Ficidee_  
By: Circius

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_Chapter One:_

The **End** of a **Beginning  
**  
--

When Deidara walked into the sitting room, he was nervous.

And not just an 'Oh shit, Oh shit, Oh shit' kind of nervous, more like that heart stopping, stomach flipping, about to castrate anyone who embarrasses you kind of nervous. At some point in any human's life, one will have this moment. For some, it's on their wedding night. For others, it's that second before they inhale that first breath of drugs. Others still it's right before they get on stage to either make or break their dreams.

Deidara's moment was now. Having rich snobs look at his life's work and deem whether or not he was worthy of their money--generally, worthy of existing at all.

Because it wasn't every day that some run-of-the-mill artist gets a once in a life time deal to make a showcase of his best work and put it up in a room for the richest people on earth to have a look at for purchasing.

It was simply not a normal occurrence--so yes, he did feel he was justified in being nervous. However, ever since the 'incident' back on the day of his high-school graduation, he learned that letting people know you were nervous was about ten times worse then just ignoring the feeling of your heart beating at a slightly faster pace. One set of freshly manicured nails drummed on one of the walls while the other rubbed his temples, fabricating the appearance of a hard-working artist with a headache so he could steady himself and catch his breath in peace.

The tattoos on his hands smiled up at him as he looked down to triple check and make sure his fingers weren't shaking. He remembered getting those tattoos. The thought made him smile, and that was enough to stand against the butterflies worming their way through his gut for the moment.

He took a deep breath, squared his shoulders, and moved towards the center of the room, where his agent/self-proclaimed best friend forever, Konan, was making small-talk with his hopeful clients-to-be, passing around flutes of champagne, and generally doing agent-like things to keep everything going swimmingly and to ensure that he would make a mint.

Her soft purple hair was pulled up in an elegant topknot on her head, and her dress was absolutely stunning--short, black, and sexy in the little black dress kind of way. Some of the less-informed occasionally took her as the artist, seeing as in the snob-circles, those who had come to interview him privately had already started cracking the "feminine" and "obviously gay" comments. Konan had told the blonde to not let it get to him--but he wasn't oblivious to the fact that she reminded him to take his medication about five times before the showcase. Then again, he could understand her paranoia. His father's obsession with fighting had paid off about half the way the bastard had intended.

But he was an old fucker anyway. Deidara was glad he had rotted to death in prison. He still toasted to it whenever he thought about it--he would again later, once everyone had left. Shrugging the thoughts away, he slid next to the dazzling Konan and grabbed a champagne flute of his own, joining in on the joke, charming as could be. His agent gave him a sideways glance, but laughed along anyway at his witty comeback. One of the younger women who was standing amongst the crowd spoke up, her interest obviously piqued in the handsome and funny blonde.

"Oh, yes, that is so true! Tell me sir, I haven't seen you around so far tonight, would you happen to be the--"

"The artist? Of course. That's me."

He gave a dazzling smile and a wink as the small group instantly began murmuring amongst themselves--after they quieted, the questions began--just like Konan had told him they would at their training session a few nights previous, over copious amounts of Chinese take-out and energy drinks.

"How long have you been studying art young man?"

Came the gravelly voice of an old woman. She peered at him through huge spectacles that made her green eyes look like they had been plucked from some exotic insect.

"Ah, since middle-school. I think, age-wise, eleven or twelve."

Some nods and mutterings were heard amongst the crowd as his agent gave him an approving look. The next question was from a middle-aged man who was trying to cover his balding head with a stylish comb-over.

"What kind of art do you prefer doing?"

The blonde thought about it for a moment before he replied with,

"Well, I like sculpting the best--it's more fun to get your fingers dirty, un."

He smiled as he heard one of the younger girls go "Oh my god he is so cute!"

However, he did not miss his purple-haired agent's warning look of 'drop the un, you moron. You haven't said it much since high-school. Kill the nervous habit! I thought it was dead!'

The origami-lover could move mountains with a look. Deidara continued, making sure to watch his words as he chose them as carefully as possible.

"But I find myself painting more then sculpting, because then I have an easier access to color--and I feel that color really helps me get my emotions across to whomever is looking at my work."

It he had been a show-dog, his best-friend would've been scratching him or the head and feeding him Scooby Snacks. Or whatever dogs ate.

"What has been your inspiration for the majority of your works Deidara?"

Came the same petite girl from before, eye-lashes fluttering in flirtatious invitation. Konan's eyes glittered as she inhaled sharply--almost mutely, but Deidara heard. She had mentioned something about not expecting this question to come up until after they had seen his pieces. She said the way to dance around the question was to talk about one painting or sculpture in particular and go off in how it became what it was. 'Just bullshit them with some mushy shit and they'll eat you right up! Talk about how pretty the view is from your apartment window or something!' was actually her precise wording, if Deidara remembered correctly.

He didn't even think she gave him a plan B. She must've been pissed, having grilled him so thoroughly in what to do in every other situation that would come upon him tonight. He felt the urge to laugh and gave into it.

At the sound of his laughter, the guests chuckled quietly amongst themselves, being polite if anything else before leaning in attentively, all actively curious to the answer.

"To be completely honest with you beautiful,"

The girl turned pink at his words as Konan visibly seemed to suppress the urge to roll her eyes.

"My inspiration changes with each piece I create--much like someone's view changes when they see a situation in a different perspective."

Smart people would understand that he was saying that yes, he did have an inspiration or a muse, so to speak, but it influenced every single painting he did in a different way. He never did the same thing twice.

"But was there a specific person or place that you have focused on?"

Another voice, male this time, questioned. Deidara sighed as he looked up and let his audience get full view of his eyes, trying to meet as many interested faces as possible.

"To be completely honest, I should say what I'm supposed to say, and tell you it's the scenery from my studio window--and we all know that would be utter bullshit."

Laughter and low mummers as smiles fell on cheerier faces while others simply stared at his blue, blue eyes. It made him a little uncomfortable, but he rubbed his hands together and went on, full speed.

"Because truthfully, my studio is a ranky little hell-hole crack in the side of the wall, and the only view I get is of the next building over, grey-stone on more grey-stone. It's ugly as anything, let me tell you."

More chuckles. More stares. He knew it was a mistake getting rid of his glasses in favor of eye-surgery. Sure, it helped him when he was working--but they had been like a security blanket for him all through his school years. No one seemed to be able to recognize him when his glasses were off--he was able to live two very different lives.

No more. Everyone could see his mother's eyes. Her sapphire, stare into my soul and see all that's in me eyes.

His bullshit eyes his father had hated.

He blinked, but didn't let the thought deter him.

"However, I will be honest with you kind people, because you are my only chance of escaping from the shit hole I call a home--"

Konan 'ahemed'--and he looked to see the classier-dressed people shift around uncomfortably at his foul language. He gave an imperceptible nod.

"Meaning no offense of course."

The ruffled feathers of the aristocrats seemed to settle as everyone took in his speech avidly.

"But my inspiration was the very thing that first got me into art--a passion that has hurt me more then it's helped. My inspiration was something that should've been tangible, but wasn't to me. It always seemed so distant, so far off."

He looked into the gilded mirrors on the crowning of the elaborate ceiling, his heartstrings straining at the memories.

Fuck Konan's scheme.

"My inspiration was something constant, something that I knew would be there every day of my life--my inspiration is the last thing I see when I go to sleep at night, and the first thing I see behind my eyelids when I wake up every morning."

He paused, taking in a deep breath.

"My inspiration was the only person I ever loved."

Konan hid her flinch with the flourish of opening the show-room doors and spoke softly, lowly--in just the tone that matched the utterly stunned silence of the hall.

"Welcome to Deidara's Gallery."

At the words, he knew he had to make his exit, and he did, spinning around to lead his clients into the show-case of his artwork.

He didn't think they would disapprove.

--

Of course, not a minute later, his was whipped over to the side by a very pissed off, possibly murderous, purple-haired woman.

"What the hell was that?! I said keep with the bullshit! They don't care! It would be the same that any other fucking newbie has told them!"

He shrugged.

"I like being different."

She sagged, her anger dissipating like a summer's rain.

"I know Dei, I know. Haven't I been there for you since we fought at that tourney? You saved my life. You jumped into the fucking ring to drag that bitch off me. You fucking brought me to the damn hospital. And when your Dad, when he--when he was finally put behind bars after what happened…where was I then? I found you Dei. You were a fucking mess. I've worked so hard to get you back on your feet again, ever since--"

He stopped her by putting a tattooed hand on her shoulder.

"I know Konan. You're my one and only."

His cheeks felt like lead as he gave a grin.

"I mean, sure we had pretty fucked up childhoods, but look where we are now, un! We've both risen beyond our own expectations. You have your own agency, you have a damn hot boyfriend that has influenced your cursing problem to the point of no return--your lungs haven't acted up in ages, and the Docs said they probably never will--I'm having a showcase that you put together to finally make a name for myself in the ring I've always wanted to shine in, un. And it's all real. What happened before isn't real anymore."

She blinked up at him, and he saw her smiling even as she threatened to bubble over in tears. He gave her an awkward hug as she threw her arms around him, saying,

"I know, I know, I know, that's all I can say, I know, but…you just worry me sometimes, ever since--"

She bit her lower lip, refusing to finish the unsaid words. Dei was still perplexed. Konan had literally murdered people before with her bare hands; she was anything but a flower. He had never even seen her remotely close to crying. She was always so calm, cool, and collected--he wondered what was up.

"Konan, you're going all mushy on me. Are you alright?"

She sniffed, wiping beneath her eyes to ensure that no stray tears had fallen.

"Um, yeah, I think so. You know, I've just been feeling really weird lately and I mean, we're so close to achieving your dream, but Pein is being so totally insensitive to _my_ feelings, because it's all about what he wants and bullshit like that, and I can't stop eating spaghetti and ice-cream--I mean, I know it's weird and all, but it's all I want to eat recently, and suddenly I can't even stand the _smell_ of pistachios, I mean, I fucking love pistachios, right? And I keep getting sick all the time, like the other day, I was in the middle of fucking--"

He took her by the shoulders and shook her hard, cutting off her ramblings.

"Konan…"

She looked up at him, make-up glittering underneath the light. For the sake of all that was by Picasso, how the hell was he supposed to ask his friend such an awkward question?!

"Is it…at all possible that you're…um…"

"That I'm what?"

"Ah…preg--"

"OH MY GOD!"

The scream interrupted him mid-word (Damnit!), and Konan whirled around with him to look towards the location of the high-pitched squeal. Thank whatever was upstairs that the showcase-room had an open floor plan, and everyone was put at ease to see that the screaming woman was in fact simply a little too over-enthusiastic in her appreciation of the painting she was looking at.

"Okay, we'll talk about your question later."

Konan murmured, putting on her hostess mask.

"It's show time."

She grabbed Dei's arm and dragged him over (well, she glided, he was dragged) to where a lovely blonde haired, blue-eyed woman was still standing, her hands covering her mouth as she stared at the painting before. Taking a peek at it, Dei frowned to himself. The piece wasn't a personal favorite of his.

The painting actually came from a dream, and the idea in and of itself was rather simple: the view was of a hand (it seemed like it belonged to whomever was standing directly in front of the picture) reaching out as darkness seemed to permeate into the painting's reality-- a place of blue skies and white birds flying in the distance. The hand had the barest threads of grasp on another, paler and larger one (the first was very petite and delicate in retrospect), in just the way that it was up to the viewer on whether or not they thought that the grip strengthened or broke. The view was the most interesting aspect on his own opinion. The hands were life-sized, and it seemed as though the first was your own. The woman was staring at her own fingers in disbelief.

"Oh my God, I love it. I saw it move! That means it's made for me! I saw the hands tighten around each other, I did!"

She squealed, her bright blue, peacock colored eyes dancing. Konan delicately asked if she was felling well, or if she wanted to sit down.

"Oh nonononono, I'm fine, it's just that I haven't been this excited in…well, exactly three months and four days."

She bubbled, and her pink haired companion gave a strained smile.

"I'm sorry, Haruko is a little…excitable. And she likes art a little too much."

She murmured as Konan nodded kindly, Deidara felt as though he knew the green-eyed woman some how, and was staring her down, trying to match a face to a name. Haruko was still apparently enthralled by the piece before her.

"May I ask why you were so excited three months and four days ago Miss…"

"Haruko Uchiha--I mean, well, my surname is technically Mesotomi, but I'm going to be an Uchiha in six months! That's when I was so excited you see, because I finally got engaged to Itachi, who I had been dating for who knew how long--but you know men and their--Ohmygod!"

The champagne flute Deidara had been holding fell to the floor with a horrible crash that sent the room into quiet mummers again. Konan swallowed something but instantly bounced back with,

"Well congratulations! I'm happy that you've found someone you obviously care for a lot. Deidara darling, I'm sorry, but are you feeling alright? I know you have a slight claustrophobia and perhaps that's why you lost your grip?"

Deidara laughed a laugh that sounded hollow to his ears, but apparently was good enough to put the rest of his clientele at ease.

"Oh no, actually, I dropped my glass because I was nervous being in the presence of so pretty and lucky a lady. Itachi Uchiha? I think I went to school with him--in Konoha Private, no? I transferred there from my home town when I was in Middle School."

Haruko blushed a lovely shade of cherry as she fanned herself with her brochure.

"Oh thank you but--wait, you went to school with my fiancée?"

He nodded, the fake smile still frozen in place.

"Yes, I'm rather sure we did--well, it's not hard to forget somebody like Itachi Uchiha--don't get me wrong, I wasn't a close friend of his or anything, but we passed each other in the hall-way. We were even partnered up for a few projects once or twice, if I remember correctly."

Actually, He and Itachi had only been partnered up for their final English project in their senior year. The thing had lasted for an entire term--more then enough time to fall in love of course.

"No! Really? The artist of the painting that I must have, friends with my dashing fiancée--old friends that haven't met in years! Oh it's like a story-book! That is too wonderful!"

She sighed dramatically, flinging her arms past her head as Dei felt his composure cracking and his eye twitch.

Itachi was marrying this bimbo?

But he didn't loose his cool--instead, he calmly stated, without a hint of apprehension or dislike in his voice--

"Well, if you like it so much, you should have it. Consider it my wedding present to you. It's not often a painting could find a home with someone that cares for it so much."

Konan looked at him as though he was on crack, and Haruko's familiar, quiet companion with bubble-gum colored hair also stared at him in utter shock mixed with a hint of disbelief. The blonde however, looked as though Christmas had come early.

"Oh really? Truly? I was going to buy it right here anyway and--oh, you are the sweetest and most handsome man I ever met! Save for my fiancée of course, but don't tell him that!"

She giggled, and polite laughter was heard around the small circle in response.

"But, wait, oh, I have a splendid idea! You will of course, come to the wedding Deidara?"

The blonde felt as though his blood had turned to ice.

"Miss Mesotomi, I would hate to impose and cost your further, I mean, you must already be pulling out all the stops by the sound of it--"

He began, when--

"Nonsense! In fact, I know that Daddy and my father-in-law were actually looking for painters to paint portraits of themselves and their families recently--you would be perfect for the job, I can tell already from your work here. Everything is almost as though…it's alive some how."

"Miss Mesotomi--"

Konan tried to interrupt, but the woman cold not be stopped.

"And since you live in a hell-hole, if I remember correctly,"

She laughed again to herself, as though it was the funniest thing in the world.

"You could live with us in the Uchiha manor until after the wedding! And we'll pay you twice as much for whatever you're asking for any of the paintings in this room for each one you make us. That should be ample payment for your generosity, don't you think Sakura?

Her companion just stood there, shell-shocked, same as everyone else in the group. Deidara finally recognized her as an old friend of Itachi's younger brother. That was where he had seen her before--he just didn't expect her to be hanging around with someone she obviously didn't care for.

Konan seemed to be the first to find her voice to speak.

"Miss Mesotomi, you do know that you're talking about twenty thousand dollars a painting, correct?"

The blonde tossed her curls back with a wave of her hand.

"That's pocket change. The Mesotomi and the Uchiha families together make triple that every five minutes."

His purple-haired agent's eyes widened, and the blonde could hear the gears turning in her head.

The look in her eyes spoke her words before she said them.

"Well Miss Mesotomi, if you really want to, I can pull up the papers tonight and have Mr. Deidara over there by morning with your gift."

The bride-to-be fairly outshined the sun with her too sugary-sweet, let me give you a cavity smile.

Deidara couldn't take it anymore.

"You know Konan, I think I am starting to feel a little bit claustrophobic, with all of this going on. I'm going to take a breather outside Konan, if that's okay with you?"

His agent/best-friend nodded, her face now unreadable.

But the blonde could hear their conversation in his mind.

Dei: Konan, are fucking crazy?! I was fucking in love with Itachi Uchiha for five fucking years! FIVE YEARS!

Koko: Stop fucking cussing you fucking sonofabitch! You know how great of an opportunity this is for you, I mean, it's the fucking UCHIHAS for Chrissake! They own fucking MISSILES AND SHIT! You're over Itachi anyway now, you told me that. You're dating Sasori, and you like him like hell! You just have bad memories, but when you see Uchiha again, you'll heal faster then ever. It's called fucking closure you ass!

Dei: You don't UNDERSTAND Konan, I--

Koko: WHO THE FUCK IS YOUR AGENT?!

Dei: You are.

Koko: WHO THE F.U.C.K. KNOWS WHAT'S BEST FOR YOU?!

Dei: You do.

Koko: And WHO the FUCK is always right?!

Dei: You are.

Koko: …If I'm single when I'm 35, we're so getting married.

Dei: …Do I have a choice in the matter?

Koko: Shut. Up.

End of discussion.

Walking outside, he pulled a cigarette from the pack in his pocket and lit it, inhaling as he felt the nicotine work through his system and calm his racing heart.

"Itachi Uchiha."

The name rolled off his tongue like smooth lips used to.

"We have some unfinished business, un."

--

Itachi Uchiha was a busy man. He didn't have time to waste helping plan his funeral.

No, his wedding. Right. Wedding. He kept getting the two confused--for reasons that didn't make sense to his mother as she cutely showed him the plans she had drawn up for the reception.

"And I'm thinking that we can sit Sasuke next to Naruto, because that blonde is the only one that boy will talk to with any sort of interest, even though honestly, I keep telling him that the Harunos are very interested in a match between him and Sakura, who's such a sweet girl--Haruko loves taking her everywhere and--"

"Mother, Sakura's parents order her to be friends with Haruko so that Sakura can spend more time with Sasuke since my fiancée, is, obviously enough, spending a majority of her time with our family. Sakura however, hates my future strife."

"Wife darling."

Dark, tired eyes glanced up at his mother from his briefing of the newest design for the next missile Uchiha Incorporated was hopefully going to produce within the next year. He didn't have to say 'What?', because his mother married into the Uchiha family, and anyone who marries in is required to speak its archaic and silent language very fluently.

"She's going to be your wife sweetie. Not your strife."

"That's what I said."

"No you said--never mind. You know, I think all this work is getting to you. Have you even listened to one word I've said so far?"

"Yes mother, I have. I'm good at multi-tasking."

His eyes were back on the paper, calculating whether or not he could fit in a hair more of a highly combustible, top-secret chemical into the main hull without having the pressure break through and blow up whatever air-craft it was on. He worked on these plans whenever he needed an inner chuckle, for the company had code-named the fuel 'Sasuke' as a rather good joke.

Seeing as the missile was, consequentially, labeled 'The Naruto'.

The look on both of their faces at the conference meeting had been priceless. It got even better when Naruto had flown out of his chair, shouting,

"LIKE HELL I WOULD BE TAKING IT UP THE ASS!"

And Sasuke leaping up in retaliation, also yelling at the top of his lungs, blushing madly.

"LIKE HELL I WOULD!"

"WELL YOU WEREN'T COMPLAINING LAST NIGHT YOU BASTARD!"

And then…the awkward silence.

Itachi, though a busy man, did have some perks in his life.

Torturing his foolish little brother was one of them.

"Right then, what is the seating chart I planned?"

His mother's voice interrupted his enjoyable memories as she stared down at him with her coolly appraising eyes. She could never pull off the official Uchiha Glare, but she definitely pulled off the 'I am your mother' glare well enough to scare her own children.

Thinking back, she pulled the 'I am your wife' glare off on their father too. Whenever she turned out that look, the men of the Uchiha household usually went "Yes Mam", and meekly obeyed her commands.

The heir to said family, company, and the multi-billion dollar fortune that went with it pulled out a spare sheet of paper from his desk as his mother waited patiently for him to answer her question. Quickly, he drew out the seating chart and labeled every person at the chairs the woman had assigned them to. He held out the paper to Mikoto as he looked back to his missile plans.

After glancing at the perfect copy of the chart she held in her hands, she rolled her eyes.

"You know darling, sometimes it's really very annoying to have geniuses for sons. They always seem to be smart-alecs that can never let their mother's have one moment of glory. I mean, look at you, my baby boy, getting married!"

He heard the sniffle and went for the tissue box he kept in the bottom left-hand draw for such occasions, holding them out as his eyes did not waver from his blue-prints.

His mother snatched the tissues from the box and dabbed her eyes for a moment before staring at him in silence.

Then she burst into tears.

"Oh Itachi, I just can't believe it, I mean, it was only yesterday I held you in my arms--"

"Mother."

"And I changed your dirty diapers--"

"Mother."

"And I brought you to school for the first time--"

"Mother, did you take your--"

"And when you brought your first friend home, oh my god, you were always so lonely, I thought you'd never find anyone, and that kid, oh, what was his name? He looks a little like Haruko, you know? Blonde hair, blue eyes, glasses though--but he had the sunniest disposition. He was your anti-thesis--and I remember how frustrated you would get with him, but you were in high school, so I couldn't give you a hug when you were frustrated, because it wasn't--"

She sniffled, not noticing Itachi stiffen in his chair, all thought-processing, hell, all brain functioning shutting down as the memories came rushing back.

"It wasn't cool! And now, now you have so many friends and you're marrying the girl your father wanted you to, and it's all so wonderful!"

"Yes."

He suddenly felt light as air as he fell back to being seventeen: slender, tall, his hair having finally grown out, embarrassed by his little brother as Sasuke stared at him and the first person he had ever brought home (They were doing their final English project together, if he remembered correctly) with his overlarge black eyes.

And then his partner, laughing as he waved 'hi' to the younger teenager, who just continued staring after him before vanishing back in his room to continue making plans with his two best friends for some reason or another.

Itachi remembered sitting at the kitchen table, trying to get it through the blonde's thick skull that they could not write a paper about pyrotechnics citing experiments they had done themselves as examples because it would be illegal--

When his mother walked in with the groceries, shouting her "I'm home!" to what she thought would be a house devoid of all people but her sons and the cleaners.

He can remember feeling as embarrassed as anything when his mother dropped her shopping bags (she lived for doing domestic house-wifey things, even though the Uchiha's could afford for her to not), and watching the eggs cracking all over the floor, freezing as he looked over to see his new friend's reaction.

His partner had taken off his glasses for the moment so that he could look at the assignment again, and stared at the Uchiha heir with his heart-stopping, too-blue eyes.

Itachi could've sworn that they were portals to different worlds. They were so simply…intense--so opposite of what he was used to seeing in the mirror every day, or walking around his home; going to family dinners.

He could never forget the image of those blue eyes. They seemed to be forever ingrained on his retinas.

The blonde had then lept up to grab some towels so he could help Mikoto clean up the mess, introducing himself in that funny way that he used to talk.

"Hiya Mrs. Uchiha, un! My name is--"

"Deidara."

Itachi was swung back to the present by his mother, finally having used all of his tissues, seeming to be stable and sane once more, and was now murmuring the name of the aspiring artist he had brought home so many years ago.

"That means Mud in Japanese. It was a strange name. But he was very cute, why, they way you two were acting around each-other, at first I thought he was a girl, and that you had a crush on him!"

His mother started laughing as though it was the funniest thing in the world.

"I really can't believe I haven't seen him in so long. When did he stop coming around--I used to think of him as my third child!"

Itachi, having still not moved an inch from where he had been frozen at the sudden recollection of the petite, blonde, high-school student named Deidara.

Then he spoke.

"It's been five and a half years since I've seen him. He…left at the end of that year that we had been partnered for that project. The teachers said he was a bad kid anyway, and it was only a matter of time before he dropped out."

His pen scratched on the paper as he tried to focus his mind on missiles again.

"But he seemed like such a good kid! And whenever you two said you would be working, you were. Didn't you both get the highest score in your class on that project?"

His mother interrupted. He sighed, stilling the movements of his ballpoint yet again as he thought back to his red-hot anger, his embarrassment.

His utterly mind-warping feeling of betrayal and mistrust.

"He left his half of the project on my desk the day he left. I turned it in a few days later, when it was due. I thought the teachers were lying about him never putting effort into anything but…I never saw him in any other class but that one, so I couldn't make any kind of conclusion. He just…left."

His mother tilted her head a little to the side, a curious look coming over her face.

"And you didn't ask your father to see if he could help you find him? I mean, he was your first friend, and you two were thick as thieves, back in the day. I remember when you both hotwired your father's car to take it to some party!"

She laughed, a reminiscent look in her eyes.

"Where did all those years go?"

Itachi put his pen down and looked up, seeing his mother lost in her own memories, he fingered the side-compartment drawer that held the only photograph he had of the blonde and him together; Dei's arm slung around his shoulder while he glared the Uchiha glare at the only teenager in their high-school that seemed impervious to it. The photograph was all that was left. He had burned everything else.

"Dei vanished into thin air. We had gotten into a fight and…at the time, I was too blinded by my pride to try and find him until it was too late. Now I'm here, five years later."

Mikoto grinned.

"That's right! My baby's fresh out of college and already two steps down from CEO. And he's getting married!"

God, menopause was definitely the worst invention ever made. Before, he could calculate when his mother would be pmsing and made plans to be out of the house during that time period. Of course, he would also conveniently forget to tell Sasuke--but the torture had also made his younger brother much more adept at handling their emotionally unstable mother then himself. It would probably be a smarter idea to call him to eat tomatoes with her or something so that Itachi could return to his happy working place--

"And this is the dining room, across from which is Itachi-pooh's study."

The sound of Haruko's voice jolted him out of his semi-calm state of peace. He began wracking his head to find some reason for her to leave him alone--

But his mother was already gone, her warm voice excited and welcoming.

"Haruko-chan! It is so wonderful to see you again so soon! I though you were going to the Harunos for the weekend?! But you're right on time, because Itachi has just finished all of the work he needs to do today, so you can spend some quality time together and--oh my."

Plan B, make up a reason for her to leave him alone.

"Actually mother,"

He began smoothly, standing up and, after cracking his back a little, striding out into the dinning room--

Where he saw Mikoto's abrupt loss for words--

Because at the sight that stood before him, looking at him sheepishly with his stunning blue eyes and a dizzying smile, Itachi lost his words as well.

"Dei--dara?"

Was all he managed to get out, feeling extremely undignified and, well, generally shocked.

But seeing as Uchiha's didn't get "shocked" or "undignified", he ventured a guess that he probably looked the same as he always did, save for his eyes, which he felt widening in surprise. His gaze rested on Haruko's curvy form for a moment before they flicked over to the ripped jeans and paint-stained wife-beater clad blonde man before him.

If he ever had any doubt about his sexual preferences, it was resolved at that moment. Or maybe, he thought as he gave his old friend a once over, he was simply Deidara-oriented.

The shirt clung to a thin, lithe body like a second skin, leaving nothing to the imagination. His pants were baggy and way over-sized, but they had been the same way in high-school as well. He wore a few beaded bracelets on his wrist and a simple choker tied on his long, elegant neck.

He had grown up in the good way. Itachi, always one for detail, appreciated the perfect angle of his jaw line and the completely unmarked skin that stretched across the expanse of a warm, honey-gold colored neck--the delicate nose that flared whenever he was angry; the full, pouty lips that were slightly parted in identical shock.

But the one thing the Uchiha was drawn to more then anything else were Dei's eyes--their exotic slant, giving indication to his Asian background--and their sapphire blue depths that seemed to stare into his very soul, glittering without any glasses whatsoever resting on the bridge of his nose.

Seeing him brought the turbulent waterfall of memories back--and by the look in those eyes, Itachi could tell that he wasn't the only one thinking back to that moment. That night. That week.

And as articulated as Itachi was, with his years of education and legendary skills of charisma, only one word seemed fit to describe his situation as it stood.

And that would be Shit.

--

**Review if you want. Favorite if you want. Leave words to make this writer happy. Because a happy writer is an updating writer. ^^**


	2. The Bathroom

--

**Unfinished Business**

_An ItaDei Ficidee_

By: Circius

--

_Chapter Two:_

The **Bathroom**

--

"Heya Sasori-danna, I have to talk to you about something."

Deidara called out to the grungy apartment he shared with his current boyfriend after he arrived home much later in the evening. Dropping off his bag by the bedroom door, he wandered over to the living room, where Sasori was sitting in front of a flickering TV screen, watching another horror movie of some sort as he fiddled with the limbs of a wooden puppet.

That's what his danna did--make and fix puppets for a major theater department that was big downtown--it meant he got to work from home, and only leave when he had to go and drop his finished pieces off.

They had met in a club about half a year ago, just when Dei was finally feeling like himself again, and tried to make his way into the dating scene. Sasori had been sitting at the bar, chatting nonchalantly with some bartender he knew, when he saw the blonde being harassed by a group of lecherous looking men. The red-head had swooped in to Dei's rescue, and they had spoken for the rest of the evening, discussing art, past endeavors and successes, what they liked in bed--

They had first slept together about a week later, after a few more meetings at coffee shops and art-galleries. Sasori was sexy as hell, with his lazy-but sexy attitude and monotonous way of looking at life that reminded the blonde of a certain someone he had pined over before--

However, the red-head didn't give a shit about what Dei wanted when it came to more domestic things, such as what to watch on TV, or what to eat. Usually he was too lazy to care--other times he would just glare and let his anger simmer until his blue-eyed boyfriend let him have his way.

Such as watching horror flicks. Dei hated them, but did Sasori give a shit? No. Sometimes the blonde artist wondered whether or not he and his lover would've been better off as best friends. They could live together, deal with each other--but having sex simply added a whole new dimension to their relationship that often screwed things up.

But he was happy. He liked living with Sasori, because his danna was stable, sexy, and kind when it did suit him. It was hard to find that in a guy in this day and age.

"Hmm? About what?"

The low tenor drawled from the beaten-up couch as dark reddish eyes didn't stray from his puppet.

Dei did love sasori's eyes. Then again, he loved dark or burgundy colored eyes in general. They were the kind of eyes that were either cool as ice or burning with intensity--if not one or the other, then they smoldered.

"I got offered a long-time job, un. For six straight months."

He said as he slid next to the red-head on the couch, keeping his eyes directed away from the TV as another hapless person screamed in terror and agony. He began rubbing circles into his danna's back, slowly and soothingly--a technique he found often made the red-head relax and pause in whatever he was doing to enjoy the sensation.

Sasori only worked on the puppet for a moment longer after the rubbing started, before closing his eyes and leaning back with a groan.

"Well that's good, right? Congrats."

Dei nuzzled his head into the junction of Sasori's shoulder, inhaling the scent of sandalwood and soap as his boyfriend wrapped a comfortable arm around him, his chin resting in blonde hair as he clicked a button to mute the fuzzy sound of the television.

He was in a mood tonight. But the blonde artist knew he had to pack. How was he supposed to tell Sasori now? He already felt shitty enough as is. The puppeteer knew about him being in love with some asshole for five years--he just didn't know the asshole was Itachi Uchiha. And Dei couldn't very well go and confess he was going to leave for six months to work at this ex-love's home, could he?

Would his danna even wait sixth months for him?

"But I have to leave."

There he said it. It was out n the open. He sighed against Sasori's pale collarbone, closing his eyes as he waited for the questions to come.

"Why?"

"Because that's part of the deal, un. They're having a wedding or something, and they need me on hand. Plus, the manor is like…five-hours away by car. They didn't want me having to commute that kind of distance all the time. They've promised me my own studio and everything but…I still…"

"You don't know, because you don't want to leave for six months. I get it."

It was easier having Sasori for a boyfriend. The puppeteer understood things Dei couldn't really put to words quite easily.

"So what are we going to do about it?"

Sasori shrugged, appearing to still be interested in the movie as he lazily ran his fingers up Deidara's spine.

"It's your decision blondie. You could get days off to come and see me, so I don't give a shit. You know I'm usually busy anyway. You are always whining about wanting to do something besides have sex."

Deidara's head shot up, nose flaring as he glared.

"I said that all I want to do is something besides just sex! I like lazing around and everything but…do you remember the last time we just…went out?"

Sasori seemed to think for a moment, his hand stilling.

"No. But that's fine. I don't like going out much anyway."

"But Sasori-danna…"

Red eyes rolled in their sockets.

"There, see. Whining. And I was just getting in the mood too. You're cute Dei, but it get's old sometimes."

Dei got up, glaring as the TV was unmated and the volume turned up. It had been like this for a while between them.

He went to his room to start packing, thinking back…

"Itachi, could you not just give it up already? The girls like me more because I'm cuuuuter then yoooou."

Dei sing-songed, his friend rolling his eyes in exasperation as the Uchiha returned to his chemistry homework.

"You're cute. But I think for most people it gets old after a while."

Dei pouted on Itachi's over-sized bed, glaring at the back of a dark head of hair.

"So does it get old for you, Mr. I'm too Sexy for my Pants to even date the ladies, un?"

Itachi gave a low chuckle--something that for most people was an indication to the coming of Armageddon. However, the blonde artist-to-be heard it often enough--usually right before he was about to be mocked.

"Strangely enough, no, it doesn't. However, I think that's because I'm now immune to your charms."

"Immune to my charms?! Bullshit, un!"

Itachi put down his pen and turned in his swivel chair to meet Dei's be-spectacled eyes head-on as he gave an amused smirk.

"Must I recall ten minutes ago when you were begging me to help you sneak downstairs and engorged yourself on sweets?"

Dei's pout grew more pronounced as he glared back.

"No fair! You should help me too, because I don't get them at home! My father owns a Gym, remember, un! Healthy food oooonly! And none of my friends will feeeeeeed me when I ask, because they're all heartless bastards!"

"What friends?"

"There, you see, un! Heartless!"

Itachi laughed again--well, not laughed, but chuckled, in his low baritone voice that sent shivers down Dei's spine. He felt himself coloring, and whirled around to plant his face straight down into Itachi's soft pillows.

They smelled like him--of Dove soap, paper, ink, and expensive cologne. Armani, if he remembered correctly…

"When are you leaving?"

Sasori's drawl from the other room jolted him back away from his inner musings, stuffing the rest of his small closet into his suitcase.

"Tomorrow morning. I'm meeting with my employer and Konan at the house by eleven."

He waited as he heard the sound of the couch creaking from the other room as Sasori appeared in the door-way a moment later, looking disheveled as he thrust his hands in the pockets of his sweats.

"Oh really? That's early then. Don't wake me up."

Deidara moved to start collecting his paints and easels.

"I wasn't intending to."

"Good."

And suddenly, as the blonde turned around, Sasori was there, giving him a soft and slow kiss on the lips over his handfuls of stuff.

"You'll call me when we can hook up again, right?"

Dei's eyes softened, and he gave his boyfriend a peck on the cheek.

"I will."

Sasori yawned, a different look crossing over his face as he pulled his arm up in a stretch, eyes glittering as a smirk settled on his features.

"You know, since this is the last time I'm going to see you in a while…I think that we should commemorate it."

Dei couldn't arch just one eye-brow, but he pulled off a skeptical look anyway.

"Sex? Now?! I'm packing!"

The red-head took the art supplies from the blonde's hands and dumped them in the open bag waiting by the door.

"And now you're not."

A pale arm snaked around slim hips to pull the artist closer. Deidara realized that fighting was futile; so he instead opting for rolling his eyes as he wrapped his arms around a bright red-haired head, and leaned up to kiss his danna fully on the mouth, tongue slipping past chapping lips, hooking his legs around his lover's hips as Sasori groaned, catching them as they stumbled back into the wall.

"You're so fucking hot Dei--"

And the blonde felt the memories come rushing back at him again--

'_You're so fucking hot 'Tachi--'_

_He murmured as he pinned the Uchiha, giggling in his state of drunkenness as dark eyes flashed in surprise. Dei placed his hands on either side of his friend's face, pressing against the wall above the top of the bed as he leaned in to kiss him again, to taste those god-made lips again, as pale fingers tightened on the taunt muscles of his thigh through the dark fabric of his school slacks while the other hand gripped him by the uniform's collar; dragging him close again, smirking sinfully all the while._

And Dei pulled away, even as Sasori's large hands steadied themselves on his waist--obviously surprised by his boyfriend's antics as the blonde detangled their limbs, suddenly nervous.

"Hey, what's up with--"

Dei slowly removed his danna's hands away from his waist as he leaned close to peck Sasori on the lips.

"I really have to finish packing though--and I'm leaving early tomorrow. How about I just give you an IOU one full night of hot and steamy sex with me however you want it, un?"

Red eyes rolled as Sasori stared at his lover for a time that was too long to be comfortable.

"Is there something you're not telling me? You seem…off."

"No. Nothing at all Sasori-danna."

He replied, going to his luggage to organize his supplies as his boyfriend shrugged and left the room.

The moment he shut the door behind him, Dei buried his face in his palms. He hadn't had memories like that in over six months--especially not when he was kissing his boyfriend!

How the hell was he supposed to survive living within close proximity of the man he had been head-over-heels in love with for five years?

To be frank, he thought the next morning as he loaded his bags into the cab Konan had hired for the two of them, he was simply accepting the only job in the entire world that required him to work in his own personal hell.

--

"You know, for being hell, it sure is beautiful."

Konan looked up from her fourth bag of chips in twenty minutes, eyes skeptical.

"What _in_ the name of hell are you talking about Dei?"

"Oh…nothing."

The artist sighed as he looked out the window, the cab having entered his old home-town a few minutes prior--he was once more subjugated to the sights of beautiful old buildings and large verandas--the ancient drug store he used to get his cigs at; his decrepit, useless high-school.

Familiar faces still walked the roads of Konoha, laughing and chatting amongst themselves as the car then pulled another turn and came to large, wrought-iron gates that stood as the main barrier preventing anyone from entering the Uchiha estate.

The driver rolled down the window to the speaker phone that asked in a gravelly voice,

"State your name and business."

Dei chuckled to himself as he remembered being in high-school, driving home with Itachi, the time when he had leaned over the driver's seat and shouted,

"YO, IT'S DEI AND ITACHI, UN, AND WE'RE HERE TO RAID THE UCHIHA KITCHENS!"

The gates had still let them in.

But that was probably because the camera had recognized Itachi promptly beating the shit out of him as he laughed at his own words.

"Um, well, I got two people here that say they're on business."

The middle-aged can-driver said, jerking a thumb towards the back.

The gates opened.

As they entered the oh-so familiar courtyard, Dei suddenly felt his heart start beating faster and his breaths coming in much shorter pants.

He was hyperventilating, and he hadn't even stepped outside.

"I can't do this. Seriously Konan, I can't."

When she had her only piercing below her bottom lip in, his agent's growling at him always became much more menacing then the average scowl.

"Stop being a crybaby and get over yourself. You can fucking do this, and you will or so help me I will fucking kill you with this chip bag."

She warned, waving the empty bag in front of his face as he gulped. He could possibly take his best-friend in a fight, but he knew her threats weren't idle. Thinking of threats, h realized that he had been sleeping from about the moment he had gotten into the car, and he had yet to ask her the big question that had been bugging him the entire night previous.

Suddenly, the door swung open, and the first thing he caught sight of was…green.

"WELCOME TO THE UCHIHA HOUSE HOLD! YOSH!"

Too…much…green…The artist in him was suddenly having a conniption fit, and his sane side was also on vacation as the hyperventilation kicked in again. He screamed.

"HOLY SHI--"

"--it I LOVE your spandex!"

Konan complimented, cutting the blonde off and shooting him a glare. The young man that stood before them gave a ten-thousand dollar watt smile that showed every single one of his teeth. Every. single. One.

"I am ROCK LEE! Second in command of the HIRED SECURITY for the upcoming WEDDING OF YOUTHFUL JOY, YOSH!"

The green-kid was new. He remembered the old man that used to be head of security--a kinda ancient dude with a huge wart on his nose--but one who, even at his age, could deliver a severely painful ass-kicking; something Dei had learned the hard way. But now, with this newbie replacing the presumably retired old man--the artist's head was already hurting from the volume.

Konan pulled him out of the car and into the too-bright sun, in front of the impressive Uchiha manor as it literally glittered in the afternoon light.

"Right. Well, this is the artist Deidara, and I'm his agent, Konan, of the Dawn Agency branch of Akatsuki Industries, headed by Pein-sama, a major driving force behind--"

"Our bags are in the trunk."

Dei interrupted, and the boy's face lit up in joy.

"YOSH! I WILL GET THE BAGS AND CARRY THEM SINGLE-HANDEDLY TO YOUR ROOM WITH ALL OF MY YOUTHFUL VIGOR!"

Konan and the blonde stared as Lee did, indeed pick up every heavy suitcase in the trunk, shoulder them on his back, and jog into he manor as though they were all lighter then feathers.

"That's his Job Konan. To make sure I'm not a terrorist and take my bags from the trunk, where he will then do a thorough checking for bombs and other weapons before he puts them in my room."

Dei rattled off, trying to explain the odd behavior. The only reason he was used to it was because he had come here almost every day after school that one term.

"Uh-huh. Well, this place is definitely off the fucking charts. I mean, why doesn't Pein have a place this nice? Akatsuki is filthy rich!"

"No idea…but you know…speaking of Pein, Konan, I've been meaning to ask you a question.

He took a deep breath.

"Are you…by any chance…um…pregn--"

"OH MY GOD!"

The same piercing scream from the night before interrupted his statement _again_, and he wondered what the hell Haruko's problem was.

"IT'S YOU! You're HERE! I almost DON'T believe it it's SOOOO exciting!"

She gushed, her hands fluttering in front o her face like butterflies. This morning the Mesotomi heiress was wearing a form-fitting blue summer dress that matched the hue of her big, over-bright eyes.

Well, she was a nine out of ten in utter gorgeousness--Dei would give Itachi that. Being quite gay and a very good artist, he considered himself to be extremely good at judging beauty in a woman. However, he still thought Konan was prettier then the bimbo, as he now referred to his old friend's fiancée in his mind.

Then again, he was a smidge bit biased as he was enveloped in a floral scented hug.

"Why…um…thank you Miss Mesotomi. It's wonderful to be back where I grew up. You look lovely today, if I might say so myself."

He grinned, refusing to meet his Agent's eyes as she shot him one of her 'reading your mind' looks that said,

'Lie. You're practically sweating because you're so nervous. And you definitely don't think she's lovely. Your face screams /I am repulsed by the Female Sex. Do you not see my gorgeous hair?/'

"Oh thankyousooomuch!"

She giggled, turning a little bit pink.

"I actually just arrived myself, and I got it on good authority from the maid that keeps my Itachi-pooh's bedroom that he's actually out today, so I was going to head on back home--but this is wonderful! I can give you the grand tour!"

_Itachi-pooh?_ Dei thought to himself. What the hell kind of drug was this crazy chick on? And didn't she know that Itachi's old, grandmotherly maid was often tipped by him when he wanted her to tell anyone that asked that he wasn't home?

Oh wait. He had forgotten that was a secret from…that night.

That game.

Shaking his head, he at the same time felt extremely relieved. The maid being tipped off meant that Itachi would hopefully be out or holed up somewhere, and not making an appearance. Better yet, she might even be telling the truth, and he could not even be home at all!

There would be no confrontation!

He beamed at Haruko as she led them up the stairs and to the front doors.

"I would love a tour Miss Mesotomi."

He murmured suavely, winking towards Konan who groaned, rubbing at her stomach.

"You know, I actually don't feel so hot again…I think those stupid chips messed up my stomach….Do you mind if I take a breather?"

Deidara liked they way she had the civility to not curse like a sailor when anyone else but him or Pein was around.

"Oh no! Do you need to go to the bathroom Miss Konan?!"

Haruko fluttered over the other woman worriedly. Dei was surprised Koko hadn't already punched the other blonde in the face for her frivolities.

But no, that was only his imagination speaking. He would so love to see his best friend punch the other blonde in the face…

"Um, yes…if…you…could please direct me to the nearest bathroom--"

"Oh yes it's--"

"--Up the left stairs, on the right hall, four doors down to your left."

Dei said in harmony with the heiress without even thinking about it--but the moment he realized he had, he turned red as both women looked at him oddly.

"I'm sorry, it's just that, well, the few times I was here for the project, I always had to pee, and I always got lost until I memorized the route…I made a little song and dance ya know, un? Up the left staaaaairs, to the right haaaalll, and four doors doooown to your left!"

He sang, and Haruko clapped her hands in appreciation.

"Oh! That is clever! You are cute, funny, and smart Deidara! I'm so glad you'll be here for the next few months!"

Konan had already dashed up the stairs, as Haruko whirled into her memorized 'tour-guide' mode, even though Dei already knew the manor inside and out. He could walk the place backwards, blindfolded, and he would still have an idea of where he was.

So, in favor of listening to the woman ramble, he let himself be led from room to room as he recalled the memory of how he _really_ learned the path to the bathroom.

"--but 'Tachi, I hafta goooo! I can't focus on English when I have to piiiiisss!"

Itachi gave him an amused look from the desk where they had been doing their homework in relative peace--or at least, as much peace as they could have when they were together.

"I just asked if you couldn't just go there yourself--are you saying you don't know the way to the bathroom?"

Dei glared, nose flaring.

"Like hell I do, un! Your place is a labyrinth of hall-ways and rooms and crap. And what if that scary-ass security guard finds me again? He kicked my ass last time, un!"

Itachi looked thoughtful.

"Yes, he was speaking to my father about you the other day. He said he had never seen a teenager of your age fight like that. He mentioned something about you breaking his arm…?"

"Seriously Uchiha, my father owns a fucking gym, un! Of course I can fight damn well! Now take me to the bathroom!"

"Are you five, and can't go anywhere without me holding your hand?"

"I don't know where it IS, UN!"

Deidara was all but dancing, shifting his weight from one foot to the other.

"It's up the stairs in the foyer, down the right hall, and four doors down on your left."

Deidara's glare intensified.

"The hell, un? I can't fucking think when I hafta go! There's no way I'll remember that!"

Itachi ignored him.

"PLEASE ITACHI! I'm begging you here, un!"

He fell to his knees, still wriggling.

Itachi continued to ignore him in favor of scratching on his papers.

"You're a sadist, you know that, un? You'd enjoy me dying in a spasm on the floor, wouldn't you? I HATE YOU, UN! YOU SADIST!"

And without further adieu, the dark-haired boy put his pen down.

There was a long, pregnant silence.

But just as Dei was about to open his mouth again and ask what the hell was going on, the Uchiha scooped him up and threw him over strong, muscular shoulders.

Dei had known Itachi had a personal trainer for all of his Asian martial arts and crap, and he knew he was tiny and light for his age--but even so, he was un-prepared for the show of strength as he was literally carried out of the second study and towards the bathroom as he screamed like a girl, beating the Uchiha's back with his fists.

"I SAID I HATE YOU, UN! YOU PUT ME THE FUCK DOWN RIGHT NOW, UN!"

"No. This is to help you remember. The bathroom is up the stairs,"

And the raven carried his flailing body up the stairs.

"Down the right hall,"

With a sudden turn that made his head spin, he saw the red-painted walls of the right hall a moment before his ass got acquainted with the freezing cold marble tile of the bathroom as Itachi dumped him on it. He looked up and met darkly humored eyes that were matched with a thoroughly satisfied smirk.

"And four doors down to your left. Got it now?"

The blonde leaned forwards, rubbing his aching ass.

"That hurt, un."

"Like you said,"

Itachi threw over his shoulder as he walked back out.

"I _am_ a sadist."

"AND I SAID I HATE YOU, UN!"

He had pouted for the rest of the day while Itachi continually seemed especially entertained by his own private joke.

"And this is the dining room, across from which is Itachi-pooh's study."

Haruko announced with a flourish, and Deidara recognized the unchanged table where he and his former friend had sat for hours, doing homework, harassing each other, and generally being stupid teenagers. Or at least, as stupid as Itachi could get as a teenager.

But he was jolted out of his musings as he suddenly saw a familiar face, and his heart stopped.

Holy shit. It was--

"Haruko-chan! It is so wonderful to see you again so soon! I though you were going to the Harunos for the weekend?! But you're right on time, because Itachi has just finished all of the work he needs to do today, so you can spend some quality time together and--oh my."

Mikoto. He calmed himself, realizing that he had simply mistook her face--Sasuke took after her more then Itachi did anyway, but still, he had never met anyone with eyes like the Matriarch of the Uchiha family other then her sons.

She had seemingly frozen upon seeing the blonde standing there--but before she could find something polite to say to him, another voice interrupted, floating out the study where its owner probably sat, doing paperwork if Deidara had any guess to it.

"Actually mother,"

He knew that voice. It was different yes, but still very similar to what it once was--it now had an underlying timbre belying to the sound of it.

He couldn't help closing his eyes for the moment as he finally heard it again--he wanted to savor the sound of that voice. He could listen to it forever--

He blinked up just as Itachi Uchiha strode out from his study, looking proud, purposeful--

And drop, curl into a corner and die sexy.

The Uchiha heir had grown not only a few more inches, but into what used to by a much smaller and slender frame. He was still much thinner then the average man, but every ounce of his new-found shape was rippling muscle. Sasori's eyes were a pale imitation of the raven's, who's gaze glittered like lakes of garnet, framed by long lashes and an aquiline nose--his hair was still as long as it had been before, pulled back into his loose, trademark ponytail.

He was dressed in a simple black button down with matching black slacks; upon seeing the blonde, slanted eyes widened more then a fraction, and those perfectly sinful lips parted as he tried to grasp onto the words he was about to say.

Their eyes locked for what seemed to be eternity for Deidara as Itachi finally seemed capable of forming words.

"Dei--dara?"

The blonde could've died right there at the sound of his name being said by him. He could've died right there more blissfully happy as anything.

The artist swallowed his saliva almost inaudibly, feeling his Adam's apple bob in his throat. Itachi's eyes flicked to it momentarily at the movement before moving to trail over every single contour of the blonde's body--avidly interested as they found his own blue gaze again.

Of course, no one had just seen the Uchiha's stare and sudden emotion flickering throught he depths of his eyes. He was too quick. Too clever.

He found himself enthralled by those dark eyes that invited him to come closer--that dared him to move closer.

But he looked away.

He couldn't stare into Itachi's eyes for long.

He didn't want to have the other man remember everything that had happened--he didn't want to see the hatred there. The anger there.

Like it had been before.

"I…I…"

He scrambled for words--but just as it had been in their high-school English class, Itachi was been there for him, supplying him as easily as oxygen.

"I cannot believe it's been over five years Deidara."

That voice, that low, husky voice that could whisper across one's skin like velvet, that could turn even the most perfect saint into a puddle of lust, spoke his name again--

And the blonde felt himself get sick to his stomach as he searched for the words with which to reply.

"Yah, I mean, since what, high-school, un?"

His fake laugh strained him, but Haruko giggled right along, it seemed as though the entire twisted scene had already been planned out and choreographed.

"I know, I know Itachi darling, no need to thank me, but you wouldn't believe it!"

She sidled up next to the future CEO, her delicate hands fluttering up the non-existent wrinkles in his sleeve-covered forearm.

"You know that art expo I went to last night, the one that all of Daddy's higher-profile clients were talking about? It was his! And he is the most amazing artist you will ever meet, and I never knew he was so fun and witty as well, so I took the liberty of inviting him to stay with us until the wedding! I thought he would be perfect to paint out family portraits! He just needs a photo that we can pose for, and viola! He makes a painting. It's wonderful, and the night actually was sooo lovely, and I know you had work, but you should've been there darling, because…"

And suddenly, the whole plan didn't seem like such a good idea after all.

He could barely stand to be in the same room with the dark-haired man without going into half-shaped thoughts and weakening at the knees.

How the hell was he supposed to survive six months? It would be an exquisite kind of torture he hadn't thought was possible.

He zoned in again to hear Haruko finishing her speech.

"--and he was ever so sweet, so I called up Father Uchiha last night and he didn't think of it being a problem--so here we are!"

Her cheeks were apple-blossoms on her face in excitement as she fairly-well leeched herself onto Itachi's arm.

"Isn't it wonderful love?"

"Yes…wonderful."

The other man replied, almost mechanically--the raven didn't seem to be aware of anyone else in the room. Though he was no longer looking at the man, opting for his fiancée as she rambled, he still felt those eyes staring at him, analyzing him.

Possibly undressing him--but that was a little far-fetched.

But he could dream, couldn't he?

Dei had to get out of there. Now. He couldn't stand one more moment of being with the man he had been madly infatuated with--okay scratch that, the man that he was still madly infatuated with, looking at him passively while the flower on his arm bubbled over about her excitement of everything that was going on.

"You know, those chips…Konan shared some with me…and I think that they've upset my stomach as well…is it possible to take a rain-check on that tour Miss Mesotomi? I think I have to find that bathroom, un."

And without further adieu, he dashed out of the room, up the stairs, into the right hallway, and into the fourth doorway on the left, whipping past a bewildered Konan as he ran…

--

His agent had found him shortly after he had finished emptying the remnants of his breakfast into the porcelain toilet bowl, leaning against the tub after he had washed himself and brushed his teeth using a spare toothbrush from the spare box of them he had known about since he had first come over, hands covering his face as he replayed the scene over and over again in his mind.

"Dei? Are you alright?

He gave a meek,

"Yeah, un…"

"Good, because you ran past me like a blonde whirlwind and almost gave me a fucking heart-attack! I need food."

She stated as she sat down next to him, trying to lighten the mood.

He gave her a look, his slanted blue eyes showing his stress and worry. She sighed, running her fingers through her hair.

"Was it really that bad?"

He nodded mutely.

"Really really?"

He glared before finally speaking.

"Have you ever _met_ Itachi Uchiha? The real, un-impersonate-able Itachi Uchiha, un? Have you?"

She thought for a long moment.

"No, I can't really say that I have, though you spoke about him enough that I feel like I've known him for ages. But then again…have _you_ ever met Pein face to face?"

He paused, biting his lower lip.

"Actually…no. I can't say that I have, un."

"Then we're even."

He sighed.

"I don't think you understand. He is the most clever, sexy, and charismatic person on this entire earth--fuck Konan, he could make a _saint_ say 'screw celibacy' and pole-dance at a strip club, un!"

She still looked skeptical.

"You really think so? I think you might just have it real bad."

"Have what?"

"The love bug."

He rolled his eyes.

"No shit Sherlock."

"Hey! You don't fucking say shit like that to me!"

"I just did, un."

"I'M GOING TO FUCKING STRANGLE YOUR ASS!"

"Wait, Konan, I was kidding, un--NO!"

But it was too, late, for his best-friend was hell-bent on throttling him, her hands closing around his throat as he tried holding her off, choking and gagging all the while when--

"Hello?! Are you okay up there Deidara-san?"

Mikoto's voice rang up the stairwell. Konan froze, not noticing her friend's face turning blue before she called back, saying,

"Oh, he's fine--it was just those chips, they must've expired or something--he's got a really bad case of the stomach flu!"

"Oh that's terrible! Does he want me to bake him cookies?"

"Mother, cookies will not help the situation."

"You know, when you were a baby, I used to be able to make everything better with a cookie and a kiss on your booboos!"

The awkward silence from the bottom of the stairs was deafening.

"Mother, as a child, I never had 'booboos.'"

Itachi stated, the quotation marks evident in his voice.

"You kept both me and Sasuke locked up in a padded room. We were home schooled there for all of our elementary years. My toys all had their sharp corners sanded into smooth curves, and you refused to let any object smaller then a golden retriever into my presence."

The silence continued until they heard Mikoto burst into tears.

"Why can't I just dream?! What happened to my baby boy, with his cute little smile and big black eyes as he asked me to read him more Shakespeare?! YOU DON'T SMILE ANYMORE!"

And then the sound was of footsteps, running down the hall.

Deidara could picture Itachi rubbing his temples as he murmured something to a nearby servant about getting Sasuke and a barrel of tomatoes while turning back to the stairs.

"When he does feel better, please send Deidara to my study. I'm currently busying myself at the moment with a major project, but I think that it would be necessary to go over a few rules before he settles in."

Konan and Deidara shared a look before the purple-haired woman shrugged mouthing, 'a few "rules?"'

Before the rest of the footsetpes were taken as the sign of everyone making their exit.

There was a silence between the friends.

"Well, he sounds sexy. Controlling, yes, sadistic, triple yes…but sexy."

Was all she would say on the matter before pulling Deidara to his feet and ordering him off towards the torture chambers.

Hell was going to be crazier then what he thought.

--

****

Oh! I almost forgot to say Thank you so much to the three following reviewers! Your reviews are what wrote this chapter, and will continue writing the next few! /bows/

--Spirit of Insanity: OMG! You are my first reviewer. For this, I hearts you. /glomps/ I was also afraid that the plot would be to over-done in other fics, but I had never really seen one of ItaDEi, and I had never tried one myself. However, besides what you see so far, the plot will actually flourish into a twisted game of lies and deceit. I really hope you enjoy it! ^^ And I'm glad you think that I'm keeping both Itachi and Deidara in character--I find it's often a struggle for me, because don't we all want to see Itachi go all mushy and crack a smile? Thanks once again! (and PS, I also love writing that inner-mind conversation. I like the new character Koko has become in this fic. I'm keeping her. ^^)

--Oblivion's Schemer: My SECOND reviewer! /glomps/ You read more then one story! I HEARTS YOU AND YOUR STORY READING! And thank you very much for the compliment about my writing. It makes me feel like I have actually accomplished something in life. xDD I hoped you enjoyed this chap as much as the last! ^^

--Pachinko-Candies: My THIRD! /glomps/ You know, I feel as though this counting and glomping thing is going to get old very quickly...my arms are already sore. xD 'Nyway, I want you to know I am also extremely lazy about logging in, and I feel you as a kindred spirit. xD I have to say, writing Mikoto and Konan definitely has it's perks. I like your predictions for the plot too! Let's hope it all runs smoothly.../laughs evilly/

So yes, to you all, thank you once again!

--The Circius


	3. All that was Left to Remembering

**--**

**Unfinished Business**

_An ItaDei Ficidee_

By: Circius

--

_Chapter Three:_

**All** that was **Left** to** Remembering**

--

"--And I'm curious as to your opinion….fur or leather?"

Dei paused outside of the study, hearing Itachi sigh from within as Haruko's inquiry echoed in the artists's mind. What were they talking about? Hand-cuffs? Outfits? Perverse sexual fantasies?

"Fur would make it look like you were wearing small animals on your feet, and must I remind you that the Inuzuka's are coming, and they are extreme animal rights activists. PETA all the way."

Oh. Shoes. They were discussing shoes.

"But Itachi-pooh, what if I want to wear the fur?"

"You're going to have to make a different choice. Try phaux-fur, if you're so set on it."

There was a silence before Deidara heard a 'thump' and the sound of breath being forcibly removed from unwilling lungs.

"OH, I would've NEVER thought of that! Thank you so much darling! I'll go and call up my designer right now!"

And not a second later, a flurry of blue and blonde swirled past him in a rush--not even realizing he was waiting to enter the study.

He took a deep breath before sliding in; seeing the elder Uchiha leaning over and working on some large set of blue-prints that were laid about before him. Upon hearing the shuffling of combat boots on the mahogany floors, the raven looked up--and Dei was at loss for breath for a long moment before he moved to take a seat on the leather couch when--

"Close and lock the door."

Came the command as the Uchiha focused once more on his plans, not sparing the blonde before him a second glance. Dei rolled his eyes at the presumptuous bastard that hadn't changed a bit since high-school.

Well, besides his intelligence and sexy appearance. Those things had changed.

After hearing the door lock with a click after he turned the bronze switch, Dei moved to drop himself on the couch, throwing his legs over the arm-rest in the lazy manner that brought him right back to high-school…

"_Could you please get your feet off of my father's upholstery?"_

"_Nope. I'm comfy like this. Why are we here again anyway, un? I thought we were supposed to be finding a ride to that party?!"_

_Itachi shrugged, his long, tapered fingers shifting through the contents of the desk as he obviously searched for something._

"_The keys to the Camero are somewhere in here."_

"_YOU HAVE A CAMERO, UN?!"_

_Dark eyes shot up a vicious glare._

"_Be quiet! It's midnight, and my family is asleep!"_

_Dei chuckled to himself before leaping off the chair._

"_Why do we have to find the damn keys, un? Let's just hotwire the damn thing and be done with it!"_

_A skeptical eyebrow rose on the well-sculpted face._

"_Hotwire my father's Camero?"_

_Came the disbelieving voice as Itachi seemed to try to wrap his mind around doing something…illegal._

_Deidara was a horrible influence on him._

"_Hell yeah, un! I know how to! My friend Koko showed me. She's good with her hands."_

_But just as he thought the problem was resolved, he turned to meet the eyes of a one damnably sexy Itachi leaning forward with his hands placed face down on the desk, analyzing the blonde with his intense stare._

"_Good with her hands?"_

"_Yeah, un. She's like a ninja or some shit."_

"_Are you dating her?"_

_Blue eyes widened in surprise._

"_The hell, un? No way. She's like, psycho sometimes. She wouldn't mind dating me…and she is hot…but…Iunno, un."_

_He tilted his head as he thought for a moment._

"_She's just not my type."_

_Itachi continued to look skeptical._

"_Not your type."_

_He repeated, as though he was making sure he had heard correctly._

"_Yeah, un."_

_Itachi straightened before he strode out of the study without another word, and Deidara raced after him, not really thinking on their conversation--he was too busy being completely psyched._

_He had never stolen a Camero before!_

--Coming back to the present, he realized he and Itachi had been sitting in complete silence for a long moment. He decided to break it, flipping back to his high-school way of speech.

"Yo Itaaachi? Are you with me? Because you call me in here for some shit, and I come, but now you seem to have lost all of your desire to talk to me, un; and I think you--"

"Shut up."

The artist wasn't used to being reprimanded in such a way. He blinked, surprised.

"Why, un? I'm just trying to fill the awkward silence!"

Itachi looked up and glared. The look sent tingles all the way up the blonde's spine.

Well, he was a masochist. What was the problem with that?

"I need you to be quiet because I'm trying to think."

"'Bout what, un?"

Itachi went back to making notes to the side of the blue-print.

"About whether or not I should throw you--"

'_Against a wall? On your bed? Across the desk?'_

The blue-eyed artist's mind provided before Dei shook his head, jostling the ideas away. He couldn't have thoughts like that now! Itachi was…engaged; even if there was something between them, he would never act on it!

"--out of my estate,"

The words took a moment to register. Then the shock hit.

"WHAT, un?!"

The Blonde shouted indignantly, so surprised he almost fell out of the comfy leather chair.

"Unless you give me one valid reason for your sudden departure five and a half years ago."

Itachi put the pen down as he pushed his chair back in order to get out of it and move to the book-shelves, where he searched for something, obviously not that impatient to hear the blonde's answer.

"I…"

Dei swallowed before hardening his perseverance.

"I can't really give you a reason at the moment, Uchiha."

He bit out, saying the raven's last name like he used to before…

They were friends? They were tentative partners? When had they crossed either line?

"And why can't you?"

The book dropped onto the desk with a loud 'thud', and the blonde flinched at the sound.

Itachi was pissed.

"Am I not worthy of your reasons? Were there any reasons at all--because allow me to assure you that I've run all plausible theories through my mind, and to put it kindly, none of them give you a good light in the matter."

Blue eyes settled into a familiar spit-fire stare. For all that was holy, he could drown in those eyes--but at the moment they were glaring with such a heated intensity, he felt himself snap, just like he used to whenever he got in a fight with the Raven. Which, thinking back on it, had been often.

"Why the hell can't you just let me have some privacy huh, un?! I don't have to always fucking explain myself to you! I'm not some pet or shit like that, you got it?!"

His nostrils flared as he fumed--the raven now dropping his stare to his papers as he quickly began rolling them up to pack them away; letting the silence fester for a long moment.

"And that's your reason to have me not kick you out of my home?"

Deidara had never felt so cold, so utterly despised.

"Yeah, un. Take it or leave it. I'll tell you why when I'm ready."

"When you're _ready_?"

The words were like ice, scraping across his already chafed skin.

"YES, UN. When I'm fucking READY, because I don't want to fucking talk about it!"

He snapped back, slamming his hands against the perfectly smooth desk, wishing it would crack, wanting to _break_ something in his anger.

Itachi slowly leaned over to put the plans away in their manila folders that were located within the depths of the desk drawers. Then he moved to lean forward--he got so close, Dei could feel the warmth of the raven's breath on his face.

It smelt like cinnamon. Deliciously spicy and addictive cinnamon. He found himself frozen beneath that stare as those perfectly smooth lips, colored a shade darker then that too pale skin, hovered a few mere centimeters from his own.

He was suddenly warped back to before--

"_--The hell is your problem, un?! Get the fuck off me!"_

_Daisuke glared, his full lips twisting into a sneer as his pretty grey eyes glinted with purpose._

"_What makes you think I'm gonna let you go, eh blondie? You're such a fucking slut, walking around like you always do, like you own the world--"_

"_Fuck you, un! If you touch me, I'll kick your ass!"_

"_Try me."_

_But just as Dei was about to break the fucker's nose with his good arm, the boy was whipped back and slammed into a brick wall; suddenly trapped underneath a furious glare and dangerously powerful hands that lifted him up by his collar._

"_I intend to."_

_Came the deadly quiet of that smooth voice before Daisuke was kneed in the gut._

_Seeing the eldest Uchiha in action was not a sight Dei would soon forget, because honestly, his friend moved so fluidly, it was as though he was watching a well-choreographed dance. The blonde struggled up, leaning against the wall for support with his good arm as his broken one fell in an awkward angle at his side, having been freed of its sling when he had first been attacked by the school's resident jock the first afternoon he came in with a damaged arm. He had known Daisuke was just waiting for a chance to pounce on him--but he had accidentally let himself get caught alone between the school buildings anyway._

_But as the now bleeding and broken prep slumped to the ground after Itachi's thorough ass-kicking, Dei looked up to find himself trapped in still burning dark eyes._

"_How the hell did you break your arm again?"_

_The Uchiha asked, trying to help him put the sling back together. Dei paled, wracking his brain for some sort of plausible lie._

"_I--er…tripped over a bug yesterday, un. After I got home from your place."_

_A dark eye-brow arched in skepticism._

"_Why is it that you always seem to be a clumsy oaf every time I leave you alone for two seconds, but whenever you're at my house, you tend to be quicker on your feet then Sasuke when Mother brings home tomatoes? Did you not jumped five feet and save our three-thousand dollar vase the other day without injury? How do you trip over a bug?"_

"_...Iunno, un. Karma?"_

_Itachi leaned in very close, a hairsbreadth away--and for one moment, Dei thought that the Raven was about to kiss him--_

_And that's when he realized he __**wanted**__ Itachi to kiss him. The revelation literally turned his head upside down as he felt himself breathing heavier , inhaling the scent of cinnamon--the raven's favorite flavor of gum…when suddenly, Itachi blinked and broke the trance, quickly looking away. A moment later the blonde was carefully lifted by strong arms and brought to the Uchiha's car, where he was then driven all the way to the hospital to get patched up. Again._

They were in the same position now, with that tension--the raw, undeniable sexual tension between them almost suffocating Dei to the point where he thought he was literally going to forget how to breath.

"Fine."

That voice murmured, and Itachi pulled away to turn back to his papers.

The artist took at as his dismissal, and made his quiet exit from the room.

--

"_Yo Birdie, I was just calling to check up on you--you won't believe who I ran into the other day--Kisame--I know, right? It's crazy! And well, I was just wondering whether you were still in the scene man, because I think that putting you up against the shark would be like, the biggest show of the century, and could you just imagine the cash--"_

'Click.'

"_Message erased. You have two more messages."_

The woman's smooth, cool voice announced. Dei yawned, hitting another button lazily.

'Click.'

"_Hey Dei, it's Sasori. I was just calling up to make sure you weren't like…I dunno…dead or something. Give me a call sometime."_

'Click.'

"_Hey Deidara, this is Pein. I know I don't usually call you, but I was just wondering if Konnan has been acting weird around you lately. I mean, I tried to check up on her the other day, and she just like, fucking exploded on me. I mean, What the fuck did I do?…Did I do something? Does she think I did something, because I thought we had worked out that whole Haku and Zabuza problem, but if she's still pissed…could you put in a good word for me? Thanks. I'll leave a deposit in your bank account."_

The blonde smiled at the humorous message as he scrolled through his contacts to find Sasori's cell a little later on the same afternoon he had arrived. He dialed the number, and waited as the phone rang exactly three times before;

"_Hey."_

"Hi-ya Sasori-danna, I was just returning your call so you knew I wasn't dead or anything, un, and everything's going great!"

He chirped, giving a loud, strained laugh. Sasori snorted.

"_What's bothering you? Was someone over there an asshole?"_

Dei grimaced. He knew he couldn't flat out lie about his emotions to Sasori, even over a phone conversation!

"Tch, no more then usual, un. My new boss has a reputation for being an ass."

"_Ah. Okay then. I'm glad you got settled in and everything…but…I'll call you again later on this week, okay? I just got this huge order in from Sound Theater, and you know haw prickly they are about me finishing within like, a week."_

Dei slumped--he had been hoping to talk to his boyfriend for a little longer.

"Um…Okay, un. Just…call."

"_I will. Bye."_

"Bye…"

But the red-head had already hung up. The artist fell backwards on his soft, plush queen-sized bed and looked up at the decorated white ceilings as he sighed.

He didn't know how the first month was going to turn out.

Something in his gut said it wasn't going to be good.

--

**Okay, filler Chapter, I know, but I needed to get some points cleared out. Also, I must apologize for spelling Konnan's name wrong for so long! The lovely Amarxlen just helped me rectify such a horrible mistake. xDD**

**Review? I'll write more, FASTER! ^^**


	4. Morning Conversations

**Unfinished Business**

_An ItaDei Ficidee_

By: Circius

--

_Chapter Four:_

Morning **Conversations**

--

Deidara left his room relatively early the next morning. Haruko had stopped by for his cell=phone number and to tell him that his first commission would be in about a week, seeing as Fugaku and her Father were away on business together.

Itachi wasn't at breakfast, which was a relief--he was instead met with the sight of Sakura Haruno taking a seat, her plate filled with eggs and ketchup. He slid into the seat across from her, yawning as he stretched his arms.

"You know, I think the beds here are waaaay too comfy, un. I never wanna wake up, yah know?"

He told her, and sparkling green eyes glanced up at him, surprised.

"Oh, hello Deidara. How are you this morning?"

She asked politely, taking a dainty bite out of her bloody-looking eggs.

"Peachy. Just peachy."

He said, reaching to the toast-basket and grabbing a piece for himself. Taking a bite, he stared at the young woman with an artists critical eye, trying to see if she was the still the same person he knew back in high-school…

"So, do you still help out at the hospitals around here, un?"

He piqued, and Sakura instantly brightened.

"Actually, yeah. I'm getting my degree in medicine, but while I'm waiting, my Professor loves having me around volunteering. She even told me the other day that she thinks I'm going to be the best in my field!"

The blush made her face almost glow from excitement. Dei gave a grin.

"That's great, un! Your family must be proud."

The pink haired girl suddenly deflated, and sighed.

"Yeah, well, all they really want for me is to marry another rich boy. They're really pushing for Sasuke, but…well…"

"You don't like him like that, and neither does he, un."

The blonde supplied, and Sakura nodded.

"Exactly. Me, Sasuke, and Naruto have been really good friends ever since middle-school, in Kakashi-sensei's class. He forced us to overcome our petty differences and work together--and he made a great team. I wouldn't trade my boys for the world."

Her smile was warm and loving--sisterly. Dei's eyes glittered mischievously.

"That's funny, because I do remember you having a ridiculously horrible crush on him in high-school, though you never said a word."

Sakura's fork dropped from her mouth and clattered onto her plate.

"How did you--"

"Know that? It's all in the eyes, un. I can still remember the way your eyes would follow him, even though you would still be listening to Naruto saying something stupid in one ear. Itachi and I had a bet going on whether or not Sasuke would notice and address the issue, un. I won, of course."

He finished smugly. Sakura let out a laugh.

"Yeah well, he was my first big crush. And he is still cute…but I am fully aware that he is definitely not for me."

Dei cocked his head to the side and asked,

"You sound pretty sure about crushing your parents dreams like that. You sure?"

She looked at him oddly for a moment, but then leaned over and whispered conspiratorially--

"You're…gay, right?"

He laughed, falling back in the chair.

"What gave it away, my hair or my clothes?"

She giggled too, eyes sparkling.

"A little bit of both I suppose."

"But what does me being gay have to do with anything?"

He questioned, and Sakura seemed to pause before she motioned for him to get close again. He did so, giving her his ear.

"Well, Sasuke and Naruto are kinda--"

"--An item?"

He mouthed, and she nodded. Vigorously. Passing servants looked at the pair oddly, but moved on when Dei broke out in ringing chuckles.

"I KNEW IT, UN! ITACHI OWES ME FIVE BUCKS!"

"You only bet five bucks on Sasuke's sexual orientation?"

Konnan's voice questioned as she waltzed into the room, rubbing her belly.

Sakura paled, and Deidara sputtered.

"K-Koko? I thought you were supposed to be back at the city?!"

The purple haired woman shrugged, eyeing the pink-haired lady sitting before her.

"Yeah well, turns out I can run Dawn advertising from my computer, and I decided I needed the vacation. Hence, why I'm still here."

She plopped down next to him, helping herself to five servings of omelets before turning to Sakura and stating,

"Oh and don't worry about your secret, it's safe with me. The only reason I even heard is because my hearing has just been exceptionally fantastic lately, though I don't have the faintest idea why. And I think I'm gaining weight. What do you think Dei?"

She showed him the slight bulge in her outfit, and Dei took in a deep breath.

"Koko, please don't get mad at me for asking you this, but…are you…preg--"

"BREAKFAST-TIME! HELL YEAH!"

The artist was halted in mid-sentence as he was once again interrupted, this time by a hyper-active blonde leaping into the scene with a half-asleep Sasuke being pulled by his wrist.

The youngest Uchiha seemed to mutter something insulting under his breath, and a moment later, the other blonde whirled on him, still yelling.

"WHAT DID YOU SAY YOU BASTARD?!"

Well…It was one way to wake up in the morning.

Deidara sighed at their cute love-hate relationship before taking another piece of toast to go, making his excuses to a fattening Koko and a giggling Sakura with a flourish. He passed by the two love-birds in question just as he heard Sasuke mumbling something about how Naruto was lucky he was the only person alive worth getting up this early for, and seeing the other man's heartfelt grin before he murmured,

"Aww, I love you too Sasuke--"

Just as he as cut off by a patented "Uchiha Glare of Death TM". (It really was copyright too.)

Naruto seemed to pout momentarily, and Sasuke sighed once more, seemingly giving in to his best-friend/boyfriend's good cheer. Dei couldn't really tell who was the more dominant in the relationship--he had known both in high-school, and hadn't pegged either to be one that would be content never being in control. He presumed they probably switched it up--

Heavens. He was getting perverted. When was the last time he had sex anyway?

He started counting backwards on his fingers as he left the dining room and wandered over to the empty study.

"Five…six--oh my god, it's been like…three weeks, un!"

There was an awkward silence that surrounded him.

"Three weeks since what?"

He blinked up, and his heart fell to his stomach.

The study was not-so-empty after all.

"Umm…Sorry, didn't know you were here and…I'll just be going now…"

Itachi glared at him, rubbing his temples.

"Three weeks since _what_ Deidara?"

The blonde colored, finding his mouth dry as he heard his name being said like that again--for chrissake, Itachi had no RIGHT to sound that damn hot when he was pissed! He continued jiggling with the door and wondered why the hell did it not…come…OPEN! Did the Uchiha control it with his mind somehow?!

"Ah…if I tell you…"

And idea dawned on him, and he grinned, turning around slowly, like a cat with the cream.

"You have to tell me about you."

A singular, perfectly manicured brow raised in question, but his lips didn't say a word, which Deidara took to mean an agreement.

"I was talking about how long it's been since I had sex."

He said bluntly, eyes trying to read his old friend for any sign of emotion, surprise--

And though he would only admit it to himself, he was watching for desire too. He dreamed of seeing lust in those eyes--dark and untamable--glassy and driven. Even thinking about it gave him the shivers.

Dreams were dreams though, and Itachi remained stoic and frozen; his face as it always was.

Which would be set at the function of Unreadable.

Dei sauntered up to his desk and nudge it with his toe--trying to see if maybe the Uchiha really _was_ mentally merged with his study, saying,

"So? What about you?

Itachi looked back to his papers before his muttered something almost inaudible, and Dei shook his head.

"I'm sorry, I can't hear you."

His face grew playful and he met the raven's glare head on with confidence, thinking that Uchiha was just embarrassed because he wasn't getting any recently. But Itachi then spoke, his words ringing clear across the room--echoing against the wood panel walls and reverberating into the blonde's very bones.

"Five years, seven months, two weeks, and four days."

His words left the artist stunned, and he stumbled back-wards, face having lost its mischievous demeanor and instead taking a turn for shock.

"You mean…not since we--"

"No."

Sapphire blue eyes sought garnet-black as Itachi fastidiously kept his face turned to his papers.

"I…I didn't know--I…me…I did it…only…because I wanted…"

He fumbled with his sentences as the Uchiha's pen froze mid-signature.

"You wanted what?"

The question was posed barely over a whisper, and Dei took a deep breath, slumping into the chair as his own gaze traced the grain of wood in the floor. He knew Itachi was watching him now--but he suddenly lost all will to face the righteous justification and guilt that would probably be reflected back at him if he looked up.

"I wanted to…forget you. I only slept with one other person, and it was because…I missed you so much--it was like…"

He searched for the right words in the silence of the study, hunting for language that was even a little adequate to describe his feelings.

"It was like my heart was gone and there was nothing left but a big hole in my chest--and it would never stop hurting, un. Some other friends pieced me back together, and they convinced me that seeing other people was healthy. And it was, un. I felt better with him…but not the same. The hole's still there, and the second I saw you again, I felt it tearing--wider and wider, un. And I know I'm not a big mushy poetic or shit like that…but…it's still…not healed. And though I've tried everything I could to fix it--I don't think it ever will be, un."

His small, emo and angst-filled monologue ended, he dared to glance up at the raven's face.

Itachi had not changed an inch from his cold, calculating stare.

"I'm sorry."

The words that were finally said met a tense silence, revealing nothing.

"I thought you were made of stronger stuff Deidara. I didn't know you had been hurt."

They both left the unsaid statements hanging in the air--the words of--

'You were the one that left, so how did it hurt you?'

'You know you could've come back, so why didn't you? Why did it take five and a half years and a fiancée?'

Dei sighed, moving towards the door, which now opened easily to his heavy-hearted touch.

"Yeah, well…you know how it is, un."

And he forced a smile, wanting nothing more then to jump off a bridge with his thickest clothes on.

"But I'm glad we're similar in some respects. Pain is something rather challenging to deal with."

The quiet, smooth words held the blonde's world at a stand-still and he froze, door half open before whirling around, eyes pleading and filled with hope.

Did Itachi mean that…he cared? That he…wanted…

He was met by the curtain of bangs that hid his old friend's face from view as the Uchiha resumed his writing once more, pausing only once to say,

"So get out of my office."

And Dei did. Happily. He was grinning so broadly he thought that anyone that might've seen him probably thought he had just come from a night of hot, steamy sex. Which was nice. He even made a cute maid faint with a sultry wink, and the Lee-security-green-guy pale.

And he thought that maybe mornings here wouldn't be so bad.

--

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